Page 69 of Three Widows

‘You’ll have to reimburse the missus for that.’

The box was full of old keys. ‘Which one is it?’

‘How would I know?’

‘Jesus, you’re some help.’ He lifted up a bunch of keys and searched through them. ‘Show me the one you use to open your shop. Jennifer’s key is probably similar.’

Ted obliged. After another minute of looking, McKeown was certain he had the right key, and he headed out towards Jennifer’s unit, leaving Martina to placate the furniture man.

‘Thank God,’ he muttered, when the key worked and the roller door began its slow ascent.

‘You didn’t have to be so rude,’ Martina said, joining him.

‘He didn’t have to be wasting so much time staring at your chest.’

‘You’re such an arsehole, you know that?’

‘It’s been said before.’ He waited until the roller shuddered to a halt above his head before he pushed in the wooden door behind it. No alarm. No key required. That was a blessing, as he would have strung Ted up if he’d had to watch him shuffling through any more drawers.

It was dark inside, except for the light coming through the door behind him. Searching the wall, he found a switch. Two fluorescent light tubes hanging from the ceiling buzzed and crackled before the place lit up.

‘Oh fuck,’ Martina exclaimed behind him.

McKeown said nothing. He was struck dumb at the sight before him.

44

With no customers, and unable to concentrate on work, Helena shut up the shop and left. Walking to her car she wondered if it was okay for her to drive. It had only been one vodka. But on top of what she’d had over the last two nights, it might be a mistake. Indecisive, she stood beside her car, keys in her hand.

‘Hi there, Helena!’

She jumped and turned quickly. ‘God Almighty, Orla, you shouldn’t come up behind people like that.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. You’d think it was the middle of the night the way you reacted. Are you all right? You look peaky.’

Peaky? She looked positively shit. ‘I’m a nervous wreck. Did you hear the news?’ She leaned against the car to get her equilibrium back. Maybe she was still drunk.

‘What news?’

She thought Orla looked wary, her hands stuffed in the pockets of a long black blazer, her eyes darting around the car park.

‘The guards think they’ve found Éilis. They asked me to identify a body.’

‘What? Oh my God! She’s dead too? Helena, this is serious.’ Orla took her by the elbow. ‘Do you want me to go along with you?’

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’d say it won’t be for a while. They’re still running down leads.’

‘What leads?’

‘I don’t know, but they seem sure they have her body. This is a nightmare.’

‘You need a stiff drink and we need to talk. Let’s go across to Fallon’s.’

‘It’s the middle of the day, Orla.’

‘I don’t care what time it is. We have to discuss this. We could be next. No argument. I’m buying.’

Against her better judgement – what judgement? – Helena allowed herself to be led through the car park and up the road to the pub. She barely had time to wonder why Orla had appeared out of nowhere, before she was on her second drink of the day and it wasn’t yet lunchtime.

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